I have just learned that the man who inspired me to start a Local Government
Research Unit in the West of Scotland in 1970; who made local government believe
in itself; and whose example helped me in my policy innovation work in Strathclyde Region
from 1974 died in November, aged 93.
But such are the curious selection criteria of UK newspapers that it was only a few
days ago that I discovered his obituary – in the “Other Lives” section of The
Guardian, reserved for friends and family. He wasn’t considered important enough to
warrant inclusion on his own merits! But his work had a huge influence on so many
officials and politicians in British local government. It’s his voice which can be heard
in the paean of praise I offered up to corporate management in my contribution
(on page 76) to the 1975 Red Paper on Scotland – What Sort of Overgovernment?
As one of his colleagues says about his work -
less about management and more a political theory of local government with
equality and the redistribution of power and resources at its heart.
I concluded he was a son of the Fabian tradition.
John Stewart was appointed in 1966 to the Institute of Local Government –
(INLOGOV) at the University of Birmingham. This was just 2 years before I was
first elected to a town council and then appointed as a Lecturer in a Polytechnic
I will let his daughter’s tribute establish the essentials
The following year he created the Advanced Management Development
Programme, consisting of 10-week-long residential courses held at
Wast Hills House outside Birmingham. It had its own culture –
everything was off the record, there was no assessment or exams,
references were not given on the basis of the courses. Through these
courses John knew most of the chief executives of councils in England
and Wales. This, and his articles in the Local Government Chronicle and
John was born and brought up in Stockport. His father, David, was a doctor
and a lecturer at Manchester University. His mother, Phyllis (nee
Crossley), had worked at the Manchester Stationery Office before her
marriage. From Stockport grammar school John won a place at Balliol
College, Oxford. But first he did national service; he was posted to
Iraq, where he caught polio and was invalided home. He came off
relatively lightly, still able to walk. He went to Oxford in
1949, where he studied philosophy, politics and economics, and joined
the Oxford Union. After graduating, John studied for a DPhil at
Nuffield College, Oxford, on the influence of British pressure
groups on the government. This was published in 1958. By then he
was working for the National Coal Board, where he became head
of industrial relations in the South Yorkshire coalfield. However,
when the Conservative government appointed Alf Robens as NCB chair,
he became disillusioned. John decided to move into academia, and in
1966 was appointed to lead work on British local government at
INLOGOV; he was later made professor and then director.
I can’t remember the first visit I made to INLOGOV or my first
encounter of John – nor the sequence of events which led to the
establishment of my own little Unit in Paisley. Rod Rhodes – whom I
knew briefly in the 1970s – paints a wonderful vignette of John in this tribute
John was an idiosyncratic and inspiring speaker. He held his local government
audiences in the palm of his hand as he talked about such potentially uninspiring
subjects as corporate management. In part, it was his appearance. He threw on his
suits and missed. He walked with a limp, a hangover from polio in his youth. He shaved
but random patches of stubble would remain. He would twist and break biros and paper
clips in his fingers as he talked. He would pace the floor, then twist himself around a
chair or a table. Svengali-like, he mesmerized his audience. I have been on teaching
courses, which advised me either on how to present to live audiences or on TV. No
course recommended John's style or anything near to it. How could it? The man was
the style. Like it or loathe it, it was distinctive, and it worked. I learned that lecturing
was about having your own presence. Universities have templates for appraising staff.
At best, they set a minimum standard. To command an audience, to communicate your
enthusiasm and love of your subject, you must project yourself. In a small way, you
are an actor. John showed me by example how to lecture, and his lesson stood me in
good stead.
INLOGOV marketed its wares to local government, so we had to write for the local
government magazines such as the Local Government Chronicle and Municipal Journal.
The advantage of publishing in these journals is that I learned to write for a local
government audience. The magazines had copy editors. My colleagues from local
government offered advice. INLOGOV encouraged me to practice the art of
translating one's research for practitioners. The problem was that such
translations counted for nought on my academic CV. To move to another university,
to gain promotion at my existing university, I had to publish in academic journals. The
academic tradition and the search for relevance to practitioners posed a dilemma for
me. Mainly, my work was practitioner-oriented, and the worst practical project was
about the impact of European Community regulations on British local government. The
pamphlet I wrote sold literally tens of thousands of copies to local authorities, many
of whom bought it in bulk. It was worse than useless on my CV. John was aware of the
practitioner/academic dilemma confronting all his younger colleagues, not just me, and
sought to change the intellectual ethos of INLOGOV.
I was commissioned by the Committee of Inquiry into Local Government Finance
(Layfield) to look broadly at the relationship between central and local government. It
was a turning point in my career. I was indebted yet again to John Stewart, who was a
member of the Committee. John gave me the opportunity to write about
intergovernmental relations while Bob suggested I look for inspiration in the theories
about organizations. Most of my report to the Layfield Committee Rhodes, (1976) was
a review of the literature but it contained one novel idea. I suggested that central
government–local government relations should be seen as a set of actors embedded in
complex networks of administrative politics. This notion of policy networks was to
inform my work for the next 10 years. I am struck by the happenstance of it all.
There is a great temptation to suggest that your career had a logic; that it unfolded
according to a plan, in a linear way. In practice, it was a case of grasping opportunities
that others presented to me. I was lucky to have John Stewart as a mentor actively
seeking out opportunities for me. I was looking for my own voice and he helped me
find it. John supported my academic endeavours, and, on occasion, he too would write
for an academic audience. But his heart lay with local government, with defending and
improving it. As I look back, I do not think the academic community ever gave him
due credit for this work. The local government community was more discerning. His
1972 book “Managenent in Local Government” was less a book about management
and more a political theory of local government with equality and the
redistribution of power and resources at its heart. I concluded he was a son of the
Fabian tradition. Of course, his work had an important impact on the management of
local government but equally it was a stirring defence of local democracy. INLOGOV
remains as a monument to his contribution, and we need it to carry on his teachings.
We need a voice defending local democracy as much today as we ever did.
John Stewart wanted local government to be to exercise community leadership. Sadly,
in Britain, the scale of local, unelected Quangos has made that impossible – but it still remains an important
dream. In a future post, I want to explore further the notion of “Joined-up” or “Holistic
Government” which was an important theme in New Labour’s last spell 1997-2010.
Rest In Peace, John Stewart.